“Mom, dad I think it might’ve been my fault,” you say nervously. You tell them about your silly wish in the mirror.

Your father is the first to speak. “Emma. Let’s assume that this outlandish story is true. If it’s true, then it explains why your mother and I couldn’t control ourselves yesterday. But Emma, it doesn’t explain why you couldn’t.”

There’s a long, uncomfortable silence.

“Emma,” says your mother quietly. “It might be time for you to move out.”